


this is something we don't do as friends

by crowkiiing



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, M/M, also bokuto has a v gay crush on akaashi but he ignores it most of the time, bc he's focusing on akaashi and helping him move around and stuff, drunk! akaashi who is like. whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, he's not much different he's just. yknow. bleh, i don't know what this is but Akaashi can't feel his legs at one point, kuroo curses like three times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 08:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11665638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowkiiing/pseuds/crowkiiing
Summary: Bokuto never thought he'd have to take a drunk Akaashi Keiji home.





	this is something we don't do as friends

**Author's Note:**

> *v softly* I like the idea of Akaashi just. yknow. pressing against Bokuto in form of cuddling bc he's cold... nothing more... also kudos n' comments are appreciated!!!!! thank you for reading.

The party is still dragging on, teeth held at the minutes between one and two o'clock. Bokuto's mind is finally starting to slow down, helping himself to water and some food until his phone rings.

"Kuroo!" He greets his friend when he pulls it out. The stupid ringtone is enough to tell him who it is- after all, a remake cover of  _Your Heart Will Go On_  with purposefully-cracking voices is a perfect ringtone for Kuroo.

"Yo. I think I'm a little tipsy, sorry," the ease of Kuroo's laugh rings in Bokuto's ear, and he smiles at the lady that he was dancing with before moving off, gesturing with one finger towards the phone and grin on his lips, easy-going and natural. "So. Akaashi was supposed to be driving you home, yeah?"

"Yup!"

"There's a bit of a problem. I think the guy's drunk a little bit too alcohol, actually. Never thought he'd get drunk and all, but then again, the song Fireflies became a meme, so I guess you can expect everything."

Bokuto laughs a little, the sound loud and clear, before the news set in. "Wait... 'kaashi's drunk or somethin'?"

"Yeah- no, Lev, get  _off_ \- he's here with me. We're in the front yard. There's a stupid sign and everything. The stupid sign should go kill itself."

"I'll be over, bro!"

"Yeah, yeah,  _Brokuto_ , hit me up any time with that hair of yours."

Kuroo hangs up, and the powerful spiker nagivates through the horde of drunk bodies, a rush of clean air sweeping through his lungs and he throws his head back and laughs when he exits the house.

The figures are obvious. Kuroo stands with a couple of glowsticks strung into his hair and taped to his pant legs, lips twisted into a sly smile that Bokuto's come to realize to be a geniune smile. Lev's next to him, his phone held in his hand. The lanky Russian is holding it strangely, caught between his two fingers with one arm tight and holding onto something on his back.

There's a figure draped across his back, and when the pink and yellow lights sweep bright across the yard, Bokuto can identify it as Akaashi.

"He's heavy," Lev complains when Bokuto draws near. The light of his eyes glitter in the night, cat-like.

"Lev's kinda drunk too," Kuroo comments. "Besides, Akaashi's most familiar with your house, anyway- think you could take him over?"

"Yeah, yeah, I've got it!" He punches the air and Lev bends slightly at his knees so that they can transfer the limp Akaashi from his back to Bokuto's. He sees the slight flutter of green and the movement of his eyelashes, but Bokuto's former setter remains entirely quiet.

"Where the hell even are we?" Kuroo muses as Bokuto straightens next to him, tawny-colored eyes glancing over the black-haired man's shoulder as he thumbs through his apps and opens the map.

Hell, Bokuto doesn't even know himself, so he latches onto his friend's wrist with a 'bro, this isn't gay, I swear' and readjusts so that Akaashi's arms are closer to his neck and more in the position so that the unconcious man doesn't fall off.

Warm air ghosts across the shell of his ear and Bokuto just about jumps a meter and a half into the air. The heat of Akaashi's skin shifts and moves, and Kuroo clicks his tongue.

"Well, would you look at that. Finally woken up, huh? Nice. Can you walk?"

There's another puff of breath against Bokuto's neck and he tries not to shiver as they start walking. Akaashi's words, as always, are quiet, but these are more tender, less practiced and polite. "... mm. I can but I rather not... Bokuto-san's back is rather comfortable... mfh."

Kuroo sneaks Bokuto a mischevious glance. He goes pink. Kuroo's known on Bokuto's crush on Akaashi (his crush of a standing two years, almost ever since Akaashi graduated from college) for several months now, ever since he had confessed it to the other in a drunken fashion, and never stopped at swiping at chances.

"Well!" Bokuto says, his voice a little louder than intended. "LET'S GO!"

Akaashi doesn't reply for a moment until the older male feels lips glancing across his ear and freezes. There's a soft mutter of 'sorry' until Akaashi whispers into his ear. "Are we going to your apartment?"

"Y-Yeah."

Lev walks beside them with his hands shoved into his pockets. Akaashi only shifts once or twice, but Bokuto can't get rid of the undeniable warmth that rests, coiled, in his stomach, similar to the one pressed close to his back. Every once in a while, his arms move to a more comfortable position, long fingers skimming across the cotton fabric of Bokuto's shirt on his shoulders before resting again. Kuroo is all the way out front, humming as he picks off the glowsticks from his pants.

"So! Akaashi! Do you have any crushes?"

At the time being, the said male is resting his head on Bokuto's shoulder, so he can feel Akaashi's jaw move against the muscles of his shoulder.

"... mn. Bokuto-san."

" _What?"_  He splutters.

"... I think I'm getting more drunk by the second. Just wanted to tell you that I might fall the instant my feet touch the ground."

When they reach an intersection, Lev brings two fingers to his forehead and salutes. "This is where I gotta go! See you guys later!"

"Bye, Lev!"

"Don't get too much of a hangover, you lanky-ass Russian."

"... good night."

The rest of them walk in silence. At some point, Kuroo throws back a half-snapped glowstick that hits Bokuto square in the forehead, hyena-like laughter filling every crack in the street. "I think there's some of the shit on your face!"

"I've got it," Akaashi murmurs in his ear, and there's the warmth of Akaashi's hand swiping across his forehead. There's neon-colored liquid on Akaashi's hands now, highlighting the creases and wrinkles that line his hand.

Bokuto takes a look at it and laughs. "Nice accessory!"

They arrive at Bokuto's place after minutes of howling laughter from Kuroo, voice cracking and breaking every time he started a new sentence. "And then I said, 'No, dude, you can't expect volleyball players to be straight. After all, we love balls."

"Crude," Akaashi supplies.

"See ya, bro!"

"... bro?"

"Yeah, bro?"

"I can't brozone you, bro. Too hard, bro. See ya, bro," with a sharp grin, Kuroo leaves and runs down the street before Bokuto can go after him.

"Uhh... 'kaashi, help me out here!"

A pause. Two. Akaashi seems to come to life. "... yeah?"

"Can you open the door?"

Akaashi moves his hand and reaches out in front of Bokuto, opening the door to the apartment. He shuts the door with his foot and makes his way up the stairs, stopping only when he approaches the door to his room.

"I need help again," Bokuto's eyes dart to the side. "Uhh... so either you can reach into my pocket and get my keys, or you gotta get off. They're in my back pocket, I think."

"Front."

"Huh?"

"They're in your front pocket," As if to prove a point, Akaashi's fingers wind around his hip and slide into his front pocket and Bokuto stiffens. There's a moment of him feeling around for the keys, and after clicks of metal tapping together, he pulls them out of the pocket and waves it in front of them. "Here."

"... could ya get off of me? Not like I don't mind you and all, I just gotta get to the door with a hand open!"

A pause. After a second thought, Akaashi shifts so that his foot touches the ground, and Bokuto can feel the slow warmth slipping away like it's sand or water cupped in his hands. The former setter takes one step towards the door and pitches forward.

"Whoa!"

Bokuto catches him before he can crumble to the floor entirely. Their hands bump and slip together, and he just barely slips an arm around Akaashi's waist. There's only light filtering in from the window and from the street lights.

Akaashi looks at him like there's nothing else. Maybe it's the alcohol talking but Akaashi's eyes dont glance anywhere else and they don't have the polite, restricted look to them like they do usually, but rather they're a green that tickles his insides and makes his head fuzzy. A gorgeous green.

His lips are parted and angled up in curiosity, curls swept close to his face and Bokuto hasn't been this close to him in a while.

A pause.

"... I'm drunk."

"Yup."

"... I'm drunk and I can't walk," he looks towards the ground and presses his lips together. "... that's irritating. I wouldn't have gotten a drink if I would forget how to walk. It's a lot more difficult now. That's really irritating."

Bokuto's hands glance over Akaashi's hips, pulling him up fully and closer to him. One finally moves to the keys in his hands, then pulls it from his fingers and puts the key in. There's a click and Bokuto moves forward into the room. Akaashi presses to his side with a murmur of 'I can't feel my legs'.

"I'm drunk," he announces it again. "... if I'm drunk, can I get drunker when time passes?"

"What?"

"... my muddled is more mind. Wait, no-"

"I get it," Bokuto interrupts and guides Akaashi to the couch. "I don't think you get drunk when time passes, though! You might want to check that out, 'kaashi."

The former setter flops against the couch, moving his arms so one rests on the arm rest and another hangs over the back rest. He looks almost too casual, too gorgeous, hair mussed and everything.

He moves his gaze from the floor to Bokuto and blinks once, blinks in such a way that its second nature, but somehow Akaashi makes the movement graceful and perfect and... the movement is so  _him_.

"You're getting worse," Bokuto tells him as he drops down beside him. His voice is too cheerful for the news; Akaashi frowns at it. "Kinda funny, actually! I don't know how to handle a drunk person, though. At least, not you. Kuroo is... weird when he's drunk. Unpredicatable, y'know?"

Akaashi lets out a hum in response. He reaches over to the small, makeshift table that Bokuto made with Kuroo ("Goddammit, Brokuto! I think I just nailed my finger to the wood, how the hell do you do this?") and picks up a notepad. His fingers trace a line into the yellowed paper, then rips it clean off the pad and starts to shred it.

"Uhhhhhhhh... Akaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaashi, what are you doing?"

Akaashi blinks once. Twice. Another time. Then flicks pieces of papers at him. They flutter across the air and settle across the crease of Bokuto's clothes and the fabric of the couch.

"... entertaining myself."

"You're weird when you're drunk," Bokuto declares with a dopey smile on his face. Akaashi's nose crinkles a little with a little smile on his lips and he  _laughs_.

He laughs with such a carefree light, throwing back his head and letting a small bell ring in the back of his throat. Akaashi hasn't laughed like this before, a laugh that sends shivers, pleasant shivers, down the line of Bokuto's arm and spine.

He can't help but stare.

Akaashi's still chuckling- he releases a giggle, a goddamn  _giggle_ , and Bokuto can feel the heat at his ears. He grins loosely, teeth shown to the air and Akaashi stops laughing for a moment and stares at him this time, face scrunching up.

"... I never realized how you look when you smile."

"Eh?"

"Warm," Akaashi says. The word is quiet. He seems to be thinking as he rips another small bit of the paper off, tossing it in the direction of Bokuto. Golden eyes watched the torn piece flutter and swoop in the air before it landed on his thigh. "... your face. It's..."

There's a pause. A moment of silence. He furrows his brow, lips pressed together in form of a pout, "It's been happening more often these days," he finally settles on the words. "When we're on the phone or something and... I can hear the happiness in your voice. When you smile, when you touch my hand or something. It's warm. Right here. And where you touch me."

Akaashi lifts a finger to press it to his chest, looks down at his own shirt with a confused expression on his face, and then lets his hand drop to his legs. "Right there. Warmer then usual."

Bokuto watches him, shifts his position so that he's sitting with his elbows on his knees. Akaashi's looking in his direction again, green eyes with crinkles at the edge of them starting to crease.

"You.. you make me feel in ways I don't understand," the drunk man finally breathes. "The way you act, your personality, your actions, your words... you. You, in general."

Bokuto's chest is twisting on itself now. He's a mess, eyes blinking and the emotions in them shattering then repairing themselves, the veins of darker gold standing out against the same color that a queen would wear.

"You're weird, Akaashi," he says again but his mind is clicking together, cogs starting to turn and he lunges at him.

In a mess of limbs and gasped words, Akaashi and Bokuto tumble to the floor and there's drunken laughter and Bokuto's smile that never changes no matter if he's sober or drunk. Their legs tangle together, sharp and angular bones and muscle rubbing against the other, and Akaashi presses closer, winds himself around Bokuto.

The wooden floor juts hard against Bokuto's back, his cheeks are starting to ache and he knows Akaashi is just drunk, he's just drunk and nothing more, but he can't help but thrive and flourish in the moment.

"Bokuto-san," there's finally a breath and his sides are hurting. The light Bokuto had turned on when they entered the room makes the curly tips of Akaashi's hair almost brown as it trails across the lines of his hair. "... you've always had this effect on me."

"Huh?"

Akaashi's arms are pressed on either side of Bokuto's head and they're both breathing heavily and Bokuto can see every detail of his face.

He reaches up and he can't stop grinning, the stupid little smile, and Bokuto steadies himself on an elbow and is about to pull himself up when Akaashi falls against him, the hard line of his jaw pressed against Bokuto's chest. They are still tangled with one another, Akaashi's thighs (even after high school when he stopped playing volleyball to focus on his career, they are still completely and utterly illegal,  _goddamn_ ) resting ontop of his.

"Does this mean goodnight? You have weird mood changes, haha!"

"... quiet... I lost my train of thought..." the words are muffled into his chest and Bokuto moves his hands without hesitation onto Akaashi's slight curls.

"It's two AM," Bokuto says. "Are you tired?"

"Sort of..."

He moves to get up. Akaashi mutters a complaint into his chest but moves as well, pulling his knees to his chest as he sits on the floor.

"Come on! I know you get cold easily, 'kaashi-" he only blinks at the comment. "So come sleep with me!"

He hopes that the brightness of his cheeks is dulled by the light surrounding them, but Akaashi turns and looks at him, presses his lips together and says, "Okay."

The room is small, Bokuto knows. The bed just barely fits him and all his frame, but the golden-eyed man exictedly throws pillows and blankets to the floor, then sits on it and pats the spot next to him. Akaashi stops to pick a piece of paper out of the crease in his clothes and another one out of his hair and then turns off the room light.

"... you're okay with this."

"Well, yeah, duh!" Bokuto presses one hand to his mouth. "Wait, I'm not acting weird, am I? I'm a little drunk, yeah, but that doesn't mean that I have to be strange and stuff!"

He doesn't reply, then sits next to Bokuto. "I can walk now."

"Progress!"

With another breath, Akaashi leans against Bokuto and they fall together just perfectly. Their hands slip and bump together, Bokuto's biceps trapped around the curve of Akaashi's shoulder, and the two of them rock back. There's nothing strange or awkward between them, the way they fit like they're puzzle pieces.

One of Akaashi's legs is trapped between Bokuto's, and he has his back pressed to Bokuto's chest and his shoulders finally slacken and relax.

"... 'kaashi?"

"Mm?"

"You're too stressed all the time. Even when you're drunk. And you're cold."

Bokuto presses a large hand to the jut of Akaashi's hip, pulls another blanket over them and he can feel him settle into the warm, he can feel Akaashi press closer. They stay like that for several minutes until Akaashi flips over, until Akaashi presses his face into his neck. Warm breath moves over the tender skin and there's a mumble of "You're warm" before he falls quiet entirely.

His former setter is close, bodies pressed together, and Bokuto moves his hand so that it rests at the small of Akaashi's back and they lay like that. For minutes. Hours.

They fall asleep next to one another, intertwined. 


End file.
